The thief-taker's throat was bound up with thick folds of linen, and his face had a ghastly and cadaverous look, which communicated an undefinable and horrible expression to his glances. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream. Of the vast mass of these impressions Ann Veronica could make nothing at the time; there they were—Fact! She stored them away in a mind naturally retentive, as a squirrel stores away nuts, for further digestion. All the rest is humbug and delicacy. ‘I’ve finished me report, sir,’ Trodger said aggrievedly. And at the sight something leaped within her.
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